


every time we kissed (there was another apple to slice into pieces)

by princesskay



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23904109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: A year after their reconcile, Bill and Holden are maintaining a long distance relationship that makes them both realize that temporary solution is coming to an end in favor of something better.A sequel toall this, and love too, will ruin us
Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench, Wendy Carr/Kay Manz
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51





	every time we kissed (there was another apple to slice into pieces)

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to the anon on tumblr who prompted me to write this sequel! I left the first story so open-ended because I wanted to give it that sense of possibility, but I'm loving this addition and a more permanent answer to their happiness. 
> 
> The title is again taken from Richard Siken's poem, Scheherazade, which you can read [here.](http://youngerpoets.yupnet.org/2008/04/22/scheherazade-crush-by-richard-siken///)

_**April, 1988** _

_**New York City, New York** _

Holden wakes on Easter Sunday to the church bells a few blocks over tolling the noon hour. He’s wrapped up in creamy, beige bed sheets that are warm yet unfamiliar, and the slant of the sunlight past the curtains looks nothing like his apartment back home in Boston. As he slowly crawls from the haze of dreams, he recognizes the city skyline beyond the hotel - New York glistening vivaciously beneath the holiday, afternoon sunlight. It looks like the type of day that seems full of possibility, but as soon as he recalls where he is and why, his heart sinks. 

Rolling over, he glances across the bed to see Bill asleep and facing him. His hair gleams sterling silver in the kind, pale light, and his lips are half-open in deep slumber. His chest rises and falls in staggered, sleep-laden breaths that aren’t yet aware of the disappointment that’s currently crashing through Holden’s chest - the disappointment that always arrives when their time comes to an end. 

They hadn’t meant to end up back in New York; in fact, if Holden could have avoided every harsh memory of this city - even though it had drawn them back together - he would have, but unfortunately, it just so happens to be a midway point between Boston and Fredericksburg. As a result, they’ve been meeting here for almost a year whenever they manage to coordinate more than one day off together.

This time, it so happened to be Easter weekend. No work, no class. Thank God. They haven’t left the hotel for anything other than food even though they’d agreed to enjoy the city. These times when they can see one another in person are so scarce and hard-earned that not touching one another for even a few minutes when they do get the opportunity seems nearly impossible. 

Last night, they watched a movie while eating pizza takeout. An hour later, they were rolling around in the sheets, hungry and high on one another’s skin, and after, they lay together, limbs entangled, talking into the darkness, into the long hours of the night. Now, it’s noon and their last day together before they both have to go home is nearly wasted, and Holden doesn’t know whether to regret that decision or not. 

Turning his gaze to the ceiling, Holden rubs both hands over his face to stem emotion lapping swiftly at the back of his throat. 

Bill stirs beside him, grunting an awakening noise from the back of his throat. His hand pats lazily across the duvet before it finds Holden’s thigh nestled beneath the sheets. 

Holden quickly pulls his hands away from his face, and musters a smile as Bill’s eyes creep open to the sunlight. 

“Good morning.” 

“‘Morning.” Bill whispers, his voice raspy from sleep. He scoots closer to Holden in the bed, and wraps an arm around his waist. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.”

“What time is it?”

“Noon.” 

Bill sighs, nestling his cheek against Holden’s shoulder. “That late?”

“I know. Half the day is gone.” 

Bill slips his hand under the sheets to stroke his thumb across Holden’s bare hip. 

“I haven’t slept like that in weeks.” He says, turning his chin to plant a kiss on Holden’s shoulder. “You wore me out.”

Holden chuckles, softly. “You wore  _ me _ out.”

They fall quiet as Holden rolls onto his side to wrap his arm around Bill’s shoulders. The warmth of their bodies meets and mingles, relaxed muscles breeding lethargy while soft, bare skin urges creeping desire. 

“I wish we had one more day.” Bill says, quietly, lifting his head to meet Holden’s gaze from barely an inch away. “Fuck. I want you all to myself.”

Holden glances away, bashfully, a flush crawling up his cheeks. He feels like he’s been holding his breath for the better part of a year, expecting all of this to come to an end sooner rather than later. Every time Bill says something like that - in  _ that  _ tone of voice - it punches the stale oxygen clean from his lungs, and he’s dizzy, momentarily spinning in lovelorn euphoria. 

“What?” Bill whispers, his fingers nudging at Holden’s chin to turn his gaze back up.

“Nothing, I just …” 

Bill’s gaze sharpens, but he doesn’t press. His eyes are transparent like gemstones in the morning light, catching and reflecting all the possibility of the city; Holden wishes he could sink into that look, turn away from responsibility and the choice he’s going to be forced to make sooner rather than later. 

“How long are we going to keep doing this?” He whispers, his voice slightly trembling. 

“Doing what?” Bill echoes, a frown wrinkling his brow.

“This. Meeting in hotels like we’re having some kind of fling.”

“This isn’t a fling.”

“I know that, but-” 

“Hey, baby.” Bill says, clutching Holden’s cheek as his gaze drops away again and grows misty. “Look at me.”

Holden carefully reasserts his eyes to Bill’s, but his vision starts to blur and he squeezes them shut. 

“Hey, I love you.” Bill says, his thumb soothing Holden’s moistened eyelid. “I’ll keep doing this as long as you want - as long as you need.”

Holden draws in a shaky breath, and gulps back the knot in his throat. He nods, trying to convince himself more than Bill. 

“I love you, too.” He whispers, meekly.

“Okay.”

“I just … I don’t think I can do it. I can’t work with you in the BSU again.” 

“I know.”

“But, doesn’t that frustrate you?” Holden asks, gently pulling out of Bill’s grasp to prop himself up on his elbow. “I mean, it’s the obvious solution. It would fix the long-distance thing immediately; and we both know Ted would hire me back in a heartbeat.”

“Of course. In an ideal world, we would work together again.” Bill says, taking Holden’s hand in his own. “But not at the risk of your health. I can’t ask you to do that. It would be incredibly selfish.”

Holden nods. They’re both quiet again, but he can feel Bill’s gaze on him, translating his quivering reticence, his fears, his fledgling hopes. 

“I hate that this feels temporary.” Holden whispers, “Every time we’re together, I feel sure of everything - of the world. And then I go home, and I’m just terrified that I’m going to lose it all in a second, that the next time I pick up the phone you won’t be on the other side, that you’ll have gotten tired of this and moved on and-”

“Holden,” Bill says, his tone softly chiding with disbelief, “Stop.”

Holden leans forward to press his forehead against Bill’s shoulder, hiding the rush of fresh tears. 

Bill cradles his nape, and imparts a lingering kiss to the crown of his hair. His breath diffuses warmly over Holden’s scalp, enticing a low ripple of tingles. 

“That’s not going to happen.” He says, firmly. “We both promised each other that we would make this work. I gave you my word.”

He tugs gently on Holden’s nape, and Holden lifts his head to meet Bill’s eyes. 

“Do you trust that? My word?” 

Holden nods, biting at his lower lip. 

“Good.” Bill says, kissing him on the cheek. “Because I mean it. Today when I’m laying here in bed with you, and tomorrow when we’re hundreds of miles away from each other.”

Holden sinks down against Bill’s chest, not wanting to pursue the conversation any further. Bill kisses him slowly, hands clutching at his body, and Holden quietly begs for more, for that touch to transport him as far away from reality as it can for as long as it can. 

It seems like only a harsh handful of seconds before they’re checking out of the hotel, saying their goodbyes, and climbing into their cars to go separate ways. He faces the four hour drive with a grim shudder in his chest and a longing that can’t be silenced. Rolling down the window, he turns the radio on loudly, and tries to drown out the roll of thunder in his mind. 

When he arrives back at his apartment in Boston, everything is just as he left it. The bed looks cold and empty, and his desk is piled with papers he was supposed to grade over the weekend. It looks like another long night, this one utterly alone. 

~

Bill calls Holden the next day at nine o’clock at night, much later than their usual post-dinner conversations. 

“Sorry it’s so late.” Bill says, “We got called out on a missing child consult right away Monday morning. I’ve been working my ass off.”

“It’s okay.” Holden says, plopping down on his bed with the cord stretched across his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” 

“Okay, we don’t have to.”

“Thanks. Tell me about your day.” Bill says, the request ending with a weary sigh. 

Holden tells all there is to tell about his day, a less than eventful row of classes in which most of the kids were falling asleep, exhausted from the long weekend. He hadn’t really blamed them. He was pushing through with all his effort just the same. 

When he finishes telling Bill about his classes, the conversation quietly stalls. Holden’s Sunday morning blues cast a long shadow between them, excavating roiling fears that both of them had been smothering for some time. He doesn’t really want to talk about it. 

“So, what are you-” He begins. 

But Bill speaks in the same moment, “I’ve been thinking-”

“Oh sorry.” Holden says, “Go ahead.”

“No, it’s okay. You go.”

“No, it was just a silly question. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Bill pauses a moment before drawing in a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. In New York, on Sunday.”

Holden bites the inside of his cheek, and closes his eyes against a forming frown. 

“Come on, I can tell it’s still bothering you.” Bill says. 

“What else do you want me to say?”

“Whatever’s on your mind.”

“Bill, I don’t think you want to know every single thing that crosses my mind. Some of it gets pretty dark.”

“I can handle dark.”

“I know you can.” 

“So, then tell me.”

“I don’t know, I’ve just … The last few weeks, I’ve been wondering. Are you happy?”

“Holden-”

“You said you wanted to know.”

Bill’s sigh rustles across the line, but it isn’t angry or impatient. “Yes. I’m happy when I’m with you.”

“When you’re with me? Bill, that’s like once every two months.”

“I’m with you right now.”

“On the phone.”

“It counts. For me, it counts.”

Holden rubs at his eyelids, trying to stem tangled emotion. He’d never meant for them to be like this - trapped in different cities, far away from each other. Maybe it had been selfish of him to cancel his flight back to Boston all those months ago when he spoke at the Academy graduation. Maybe if he had just gone back home like he should have, he wouldn’t feel so terrible, so cruel, so utterly greedy; but that line of thinking is noble when this quivering, fragile feeling inside him is anything but. He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he never could have made that choice. 

“Holden …” Bill’s voice soothes him from the other end of the line. “You told me you love your job, that you didn’t want to leave Boston.”

“I know.”

“So, do you still feel that way?”

Holden drags his hand away from his face, and stares up at the ceiling. The lamplight casts long shadows, familiar shapes that he’s stared at one hundred times with Bill’s voice cradled against his ear just like this; and quietly, he realizes, he hates it. He hates it more than anything.

“I don’t know. Last year - that morning right after the graduation - I was … I was scared.”

“Me too.”

“I thought I knew what I wanted.”

“Boston has been your home for almost five years now. I can understand why it would be hard to leave.”

“I’m still scared.” Holden admits, gripping the phone tighter. “But I want to be with you.”

There’s a tense beat of silence across the line before Bill draws in a deep breath. “Okay, so what do you want to do about it?”

“I’m a teacher. There’s universities in Virginia.”

“Yeah.” 

“The BSU isn’t the only opportunity for me there. It’s something I could look into.”

“You want me to look into it on my end?” Bill asks, his tone holding from tremulous hope. 

“At the Academy?”

“Sure. Unless that’s still too close to, you know … everything.”

“No, I … I think it might be okay.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re Holden Ford. I think even the slightest whiff of interest would open about any door around here.” Bill says, “To be honest, they’d probably be falling all over themselves to have you back.”

“Oh, Christ. Don’t make it sound like I’m some kind of celebrity.”

“You’re the one who wrote a book. What were you expecting?”

“Nothing.” Holden murmurs, “Nothing at all. And look what I got.”

Bill chuckles quietly. “So is that a yes? You want me to put some feelers out?”

“Yes.” Holden says, sitting upright in the bed as a rift of nervous energy runs through him. “God, Bill, I want this. I’ve been wanting it. I was just letting my anxiety hold me back.”

“I want it, too. Fuck, can you imagine? Living that close to each other again? You’re not going to be able to get rid of me.”

“I wouldn’t want to.” Holden says, “In fact, I think I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t live apart from me at all.”

Silence registers across the line, and Holden feels his stomach knot. 

“Shit.” He whispers, “I’m sorry. I was getting ahead of myself. We don’t have to move in together right away, we can take things-”

“Holden.” Bill says, his voice quiet but determined. 

Holden’s breath hitches, and he clutches at his chest. “What?”

“You’re not getting ahead of yourself.” 

Holden blinks, tears rushing to his eyes again, this time out of burgeoning joy.

“I want you with me.” Bill says, his voice more fragile with emotion than Holden can ever remember hearing it. “All the time. From now on.”

“Me, too.” Holden says, his voice crumbling as a tear gushes from his eyelid.

Relief surges through Holden’s chest like a flood, his insecurities getting swept up in the charging warmth. For a moment, he feels like he’s defying gravity, like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. He’s certain his anxieties will return the way they always do, but for right now, he knows he’s making the right decision; and when his worries do threaten to overwhelm him, soon he will have Bill right beside him to soothe them away. 

~

_**3 months later** _

_**June, 1988** _

_**Quantico, Virginia** _

In the middle of June, the Academy student parking lot is almost entirely deserted. Holden sits in the passenger seat of Bill’s car, gazing up at the austere, brick facade with anxiety, anticipation, and nostalgia warping in a tangled kaleidoscope within his chest. It’s been a whole year since he stepped foot inside for the graduation ceremony, five years since he went any further than the auditorium. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the lecture halls, the corridors packed with students in khakis and polos, the scrape of the projector slide, a half-lit room where he tried to compel gun-obsessed boys to appreciate hostage negotiation. He remembers Bill here, too, in the cafeteria asking if he wanted a smoke.

“You ready?” 

Holden slips out of his daydreaming reverie to glance over at Bill who is regarding him with a fond smile. 

“Yeah, let’s go in.” 

They climb out of the car into the sweltering summer heat. The building barely shields off direct sunlight, offering a paltry shadow that only cools off once they get to the lobby doors. Holden pauses on the sidewalk, drawing in a deep breath. 

“You need a minute?” Bill asks, softly. 

Holden shakes his head. “No. I’m ready.”

Bill holds the door open for him, and Holden steps inside. As he walks across the lobby, his gaze bouncing off the photographs and commendations hanging on the wall, a sense of relief fills him - it matches that feeling of coming home from a long trip, a trip he had enjoyed to some degree, but one he’s grateful is over. 

Bill doesn’t say anything to intrude on Holden’s quiet revelation as they turn down a corridor into the first set of lecture halls. The sense of deja vu only compounds with each numbered door, each row of desks, blackboards, and charts hanging on the walls. When he gets to the room where he’d taught hostage negotiation, he pauses. 

“Can we go in here for a minute?” He asks.

“Yeah, of course.” 

Holden eases the door open, and slips inside. The semi-circular desks haven’t changed. This place is still the same bland collection of dated furnishings and sickly white paint on the walls that he remembers.  _ Dog Day Afternoon  _ should be playing on the projector screen behind the podium. 

“You all right?” Bill asks, his hand touching Holden’s elbow.

“Yeah.” Holden whispers, sucking in a hitched breath. “It’s just … this is where it all started.”

“Seems like only yesterday, doesn’t it?”

“I can remember walking down that hallway.” Holden says, gesturing towards the door, “Peter Rathman was giving a lecture about Son of Sam, and I couldn’t help but stop to listen.”

“Did you think that moment was going to change your life?” 

Holden glances over at him, a smile tugging at his mouth. “In a way, yes. It changed my frame of thinking in an instant, that’s for sure.”

“Now, look at you.” Bill says, slipping an arm around his waist. “You’re the seasoned professor, posing the questions, making people think.”

Holden turns into the casual embrace, and plants a hand on Bill’s chest. 

“And I pulled you into it right along with me.”

“I don’t know if you pulled me.”

“I kind of did. If it hadn’t been so unprofessional, you would have been kicking and screaming, too.”

Bill chuckles, his eyes sparkling. He leans in to plant a quick kiss on Holden’s mouth. 

“I’m so glad you didn’t give up.”

“Me either.” Holden mumbles into the kiss. 

They share a subdued yet somber gaze for a long moment before Bill releases him. 

“You want to go see your new office?”

“Yeah.” 

Bill leads him out of the lecture hall, and Holden shuts the lights off behind them. As they walk up the flight of stairs to where the professors’ offices are located, he feels a weight lift from his shoulders. He’d never properly said goodbye to this place even after years of it impacting him so greatly. He’d gone to school here, learned here, taught here; it feels good to get closure even as he opens a new door in the same location. 

When they get to the office at the end of the hall, Holden glances at the plaque on the right side of the door that still has the old professor’s name on it. The opening had come quite fortuitously; not only was Holden able to secure a position for the Fall semester, but he will also be teaching something he knows best - profiling. 

“That’s gonna say Holden Ford soon.” Bill says, pointing out the obvious but sounding abjectly delighted. 

“The one and only.” Holden says, turning around in a circle to survey the office. 

“How does it feel?” Bill asks, leaning in the doorway. “You’re back.”

“It feels … providential.”

Bill’s mouth tilts in a smirk. “Okay. Very profound.”

“Don’t tease me. It  _ does _ feel profound.” Holden says, ignoring the furnishing of the office to close the space between them. 

“I’m not teasing.” Bill murmurs, curling an arm around Holden’s waist to drag him in. 

The embrace closes with a firm jolt of Holden’s hands against his chest, his mouth submitting as Bill kisses him. It isn’t chaste or quick like the one down in the lecture hall; his lips stroke deliberately across Holden’s tasting him with risky severity inside these archaic walls. 

Holden pulls away after a few moments, breathless and shuddering. 

“We shouldn’t do that here.” He whispers.

“Nobody is here. Besides, I can’t get enough of you.” 

Holden ducks away as Bill leans in to kiss him again. Twisting out of the embrace, he backs across the room to the desk until he feels the wooden edge against his backside. He wiggles up onto the edge, and crooks a finger at Bill. 

“I mean halfway out in the hallway.” He says, slipping his knees open. “Shut the door.”

Bill’s smile is a devious slash as he pushes the door shut behind him. Eyes singeing with needy fire, he marches across the room to push between Holden’s open thighs and smother him in another hungry kiss. His hands gather the undersides of Holden’s thighs, dragging them up around his waist as his mouth strokes hard and fierce. 

Holden moans, clinging to his chest as the force of the kiss threatens to topple him back across the desk. He’s too flush with overjoyed euphoria to stop, too overwhelmed by this fresh start in a new life to consider something like fear or guilt. 

He has everything he ever wanted. Teaching in a field he excels in, having a place - a real place, not a rented, temporary apartment - to call home, and being with the one person he loves; the one person who loves him completely, despite their history, despite their wounds, despite his flaws. He can’t remember the last time he was this happy, and with Bill’s hands all over him, turning him into a melted puddle of juvenile, reckless need, he wouldn’t want to remember a single moment to compare it to. This one is perfect on it’s own. 

~

_**September, 1988** _

_**Fredericksburg, Virginia** _

Fall warmth still clings to the air despite last night’s rainfall as Bill and Holden walk two blocks from the parking spot they’d managed to snag on the curb to Palmer’s restaurant, a location chosen by their dinner companions. The little restaurant is situated on the corner, and has large windows facing each intersecting street to give the patrons a sleepy view of this quaint section of downtown. The sidewalk tables shoved up under the eaves hold the overturned chairs to escape the rain. 

Bill holds the door for Holden when they reach the front steps. As soon as they step inside, the scents of steak, fried fish, and a dozen other freshly prepared foods waft in to make his mouth water. 

“They’re right over there.” Holden says, putting a hand on Bill’s elbow as he gestures towards a table in the back. 

They make their way across the dining room, carefully avoiding other patrons, until they reach the table along the window where Wendy and Kay are seated.

“Hi,” Wendy says, smiling brightly when she looks up from her conversation with Kay, “You two are just in time. The waitress came by and I got all of us water and Cokes.”

“Great, thanks.” Bill says. “Hi, Kay, nice to see you again.”

“You, too.” Kay says, flashing her always radiant smile. “Have you guys ever been before?”

“Here? No.” Holden says, shuffling into the seat closest to the window. “It’s nice.”

“Kay loves this place.” Wendy says, casting her girlfriend a fond smile. 

“They have fish sticks to die for.” Kay says, nodding approvingly. 

Bill takes the chair closest to the aisle, and pulls out his cigarettes. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Not at all.” Wendy says, waving a hand. “I’m so glad we were able to do this. It’s been what? Two months since the last time we all managed to get an evening off together.”

“I think longer.” Holden says, “We’re glad we could make it work, too.”

“So, how are you settling in?” Wendy asks, leaning forward to pin Holden with an attentive gaze. “Are you enjoying it so far?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” Holden says, a smile rushing to his cheeks. 

Bill leans back in his chair, letting Holden’s stories about the Academy and the growing pains of teaching a brand new curriculum carry the conversation. The waitress comes by a few minutes later, and they’re forced to ask for another few minutes to look over the menus since Holden was too carried away with his exposition. 

By the time they get their food in front of them, Holden has detailed all of his favorite students, his least favorite ones, a handful of good stories from their roleplaying scenarios, and more than a few interesting, if not questionable, research papers. Sitting back and watching him talk, laugh and gesticulate wildly, Bill feels a surge of warmth in his chest. 

Every single day since Holden moved back from Boston to Fredericksburg has been wonderful, but those first few weeks - or months, rather - had felt like some sort of dream, too good to be true. But it isn’t. Wendy and Kay are sitting across from them, and they’re having dinner in their city, not twenty minutes from the house they share together. After dinner, they’ll probably go home, have a few drinks, watch some television, and go to bed. In the morning, Holden will be up at dawn to take a jog. He usually makes breakfast, at which point Bill will finally roll out of bed, grab a cup of coffee, kiss Holden goodbye, and be on his way. The routine had come to them naturally, almost presupposed; after the brief, initial awkwardness of living together after a five year absence subsided, it was almost like they’d never been apart. 

While they eat dinner, Wendy goes into some stories about her recent book tour. Kay, who had taken on the role of her agent - somewhat without permission - shares in the tales. 

“Are you trying to make me jealous?” Holden asks as Wendy mentions their recent vacation to Barcelona. “You two get to basically work together every day, and now you’re going on trips to Barcelona?”

“Hey, don’t hate us ‘cause you ain’t us.” Kay says, smiling roguishly as she puts an arm around Wendy’s shoulders. 

“I kind of do.” Holden says, chuckling. 

“I think we’re both just happy you don’t live five hundred miles away in Boston any longer.” Bill says. 

“We’re all glad.” Wendy says, “You don’t know how happy I am for both of you. To see you together again after so long-”

“Oh, Christ.” Bill says, rubbing a hand over the flush building on his jaw. “I think you’ve had one too many glasses of wine, Wendy. You’re getting mushy.”

“No, I’m serious.” She says, reaching across the table to touch his hand. “How long have I known you for?”

“Awhile.”

“Exactly, and I want you to be happy.”

“Thanks, Wendy.”

“You’re sweet.” Holden says, piling his fingers over Wendy’s and Bill’s. 

Kay sticks her hand in with a grin. “Look at us. We’re all together. Should we tell them, babe?”

Wendy retrieves her hand, a mischievous smile tugging at her mouth. “I guess we should.”

“Tell us what?” Holden asks, slowly.

Wendy glances over at Kay, trying and failing to suppress a chuckle. “Do you want me to do it?”

“Yeah, they’re your friends first. Go ahead.” Kay says, nodding encouragement. 

“Okay.” Wendy says, drawing in a deep breath to gather her composure. She slips her hand under the collar of her shirt, and pulls out a chain. Extending it across the table, she rolls the simple, gold band between her fingers. 

“Oh my god.” Holden says, leaning forward to touch the ring with his fingertips. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yes. Kay and I are planning a wedding ceremony. It’s going to be really small, just us and a couple of friends.”

“Wow. Congratulations.” Bill says, leaning closer to examine the delicate row of diamonds on the front of the ring. “Good job, Kay.”

“Thanks. Picked it out myself.” Kay says. “I have one, too, but I left it at home.”

“You are such a ditz sometimes.” Wendy murmurs, dropping a kiss on Kay’s cheek. 

“But you love me anyway?”

“I do.”

“Oh my god.” Holden whispers, “You two are so cute. I can’t get it over it. Aren’t they so cute, Bill?”

Bill smiles over at Holden, nodding his agreement. Holden is looking all flushed and wine-drunk, and he’s had enough Sauvignon of his own to feel the talk of love and vows creeping with delirious warmth into his chest. 

“We’re definitely going to be there.” Holden adds, “And we’re so glad to be invited.”

“You’re not just invited.” Wendy says, “It’s not going to be a traditional ceremony, but we would still like to keep the ritual of walking down the aisle. My father isn’t with us any longer so I’d like you to walk me, Bill.”

“Really?” Bill asks, his voice dropping to a whisper as emotion clutches his chest. “Wow, that would be … I mean, yes. I would be honored.”

“Wonderful.” Wendy says. 

“I don’t speak with my parents, sadly enough.” Kay says, offering a faint smile. “So, I know we’ve only been friends for a short time thanks to Wendy, but Holden, I would love it if you’d do me the honor.”

“Yes. Of course.” Holden says, instantly. He reaches across the table to squeeze Kay’s hand. “You can count on me.”

As they finish off their meals, they order one more round of wine to say a toast before they go their separate ways. 

“To love.” Wendy says, holding up her glass. 

“To forever.” Kay’s glass clinks against hers. 

“To friendships.” Holden says, adding his glass to the toast. 

Bill puts up his own glass, trying hard to quantify what he’s feeling down into one word. It’s reductive, but it’s all he can come up with, “To being happy.”

~

The sun has gone down, and the air is slightly chilly with another incoming front of rain as Bill and Holden walk down the sidewalk back to their car. The neighborhood, already quiet in the daytime, has died down to an almost vacant shell of closed up shops, shuttered windows, and silent sidewalks. In the near solitude, Holden slips his hand into Bill’s. 

“It’s incredible that they’re having a ceremony.” Holden says, “Even if they can’t be legally married, things like that mean something.”

“Yeah, sometimes they mean more to people who aren’t allowed to have it.” 

Holden’s fingers squeeze tighter around Bill’s as they cross the street to the next sidewalk. Ducking his head against the breeze, he matches Bill’s steady pace for another few moments before drawing in a deep breath. 

“Have you … have you ever thought about it?”

“About what?”

“Getting married again.”

Bill’s gait slows as he feels the impact of that question. Coming to a stop, he turns to catch both of Holden’s hands in his own. 

“Why? Are you proposing?”

“I don’t know.” Holden says, peeking up at him from beneath his eyelashes. “You want me to?”

Bill’s laughs, softly. “Sure, let’s get married tomorrow.”

“Bill, be serious.” Holden says, tugging on his hand as Bill starts walking. “I mean it.”

Bill stops walking again, letting Holden’s hands slip out of his own. They gaze at one another in the darkness, the cool breeze, the humming suggestion in the air between them. Holden’s cheeks are rosy from the wind and the wine, but his eyes are clear, resolute. 

“To be honest, I’ve never thought about it.” Bill says, finally. “It didn’t even occur to me as a possibility until today.”

“But … you’d want to?”

Bill swallows hard, and glances away without meaning to. 

“Sorry. I know that you’ve been through it.” Holden says, “Marriage and divorce, everything. I know it was hard, and things are complicated - you have Brian and-”

Holden’s babbling explanation cuts off when Bill turns to curl an arm around his waist and plant a kiss on his mouth. Their lips linger against one another for a long minute, not stroking or searching, simply leaning into each other with a quiet, unstemmed yearning. When Bill draws back, they both breathe raggedly into the chilly night air, breaths clouding between them. 

“I can handle complicated.” Bill says, quietly. “Just as long as you’re with me.”

Holden’s eyes glisten in the dim light before they wrinkle with a smile. “Good. I thought I was getting ahead of myself again.”

“Never.” Bill murmurs, landing another kiss on the corner of his mouth before he pulls away. 

Hand in hand, they walk the rest of the way to the car in contented silence. 

Bill drives them home, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other stretched across the seat and laced into Holden’s fingers. Eartha Kitt is crooning a love song on the radio while rain begins to the spatter the windshield. The idea seems fully rooted in both of them, another level of possibility that Bill hadn’t anticipated beyond the pleasure of getting to live in the same house with Holden. 

For four years, he’d been lost and lonely, despairing of ever seeing Holden again, of ever finding love like this again; and for one year, he’d driven four hours to New York every weekend he could manage, and spent countless hours on the telephone listening to Holden’s voice like it was the last time he would ever hear it. At some intervals, he’d wondered whether it was all worth it, only to be answered unequivocally every time by the beat of his heart pounding for the grace of seeing the love of his life again. And now, at the end of a long and dark road, they both know the truth. It was worth it. Every heartbreak, every goodbye, every endless night, every hour on the road, and every phone call. It was worth it. 

Bill doesn’t know which one of them will be able to buy the ring first, but it’s a contest he’d like to win.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm [prinxcesskayy](https://prinxcesskayy.tumblr.com//) on Tumblr!


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